When My Time Runs Out
by wednsdai
Summary: When my time runs out, Will you forget me?" SLASH, CHdeath, Sexual Themes.
1. Rules Are Meant To Be Broken

"Lights go out and I can't be saved,

Tides that I tried to swim against.

You've put me down upon my knees,

Oh, I beg, I beg and plead."

-Clocks by Coldplay

Malfoys do not cry. No, It's not in our genetics, you see. It's something you grow up with in our family. I once remember going to the funeral of one of my extended family members…It was someone my Mother was close to. But I don't remember who…See, we never speak of those who die, It's another Malfoy rule. Never grieve, Seek revenge.

I remember the day clearly, however.

I was eight years old. My mother had gotten one of the house elves to dress me in a neatly pressed black ensemble, perfect for a day of mourning. My mother was beautiful, in my eyes, for the first time that day. Dressed in a black dress to her feet, hair tightly wound and head held high. She was beautiful, like a ghost. Of course, these days I recognize her demeanor as beautiful still, if not uptight and wary.

But the look on her face is what got me.

We walked to the ceremony, passing through gates of solid cast iron, polished to a shine. Nothing better for a pure-blood heir, you see.

I remember, even at my young age, thinking of how our walk through the gate might signify something darker. I thought of it as an omen, something I'd read all about in my fathers library. And from then on, I was terrified of death.

We passed tombstones, grand and opulent, home to those regal enough to lie in death here.

I took my place beside my mother and stared up at her face as her gaze fell upon the casket.

Her eyes shone, like molten silver. Her eyes…were glassy.

Her bottom lip was shaking and her eyes were glassy.

I looked towards the casket, masked in fine green silk lined with silver ropes. Even in death, Slytherins know how to treat themselves. Of course, I didn't think that at the time.

I thought of how constricting it must feel, to be holed up in a box. To have what would seem like a mile of the finest silk money can buy, stretching by your face, and resting underneath your feet. To be mere feet away from other resting bodies..Ones that could be crawling with maggots and worms this very second.

The thought made me wretch…made me cringe and shake.

The thought also, apparently, made me feel a bit sick.

And that is how I puked all over a grand, many galleon casket made of the finest willow on this side of Britain. We left the ceremony minutes later, My mother worried, eyes still shining. And my father chastising me, because Malfoys do not do such inscrutable things in public, such as emptying your stomach all over fancy, expensive coffins.

As we got home, my father left in an angry haste.

I looked at my mother and gasped. There in her eyes was something I had never seen before.

Love.

And if I didn't know better, It was directed at me.

And the words she said next will always stick with me.

"Draco, Never let anyone tell you how to feel. Often we make up these rules, to set our lives by. But rules….are just that. Rules are breakable. Rules are for safety. So often, we follow them, even if we see no need in it. We are protecting you sweetie…from this world. But sometimes….You can trick life…Sometimes, Rules are meant to break."

And with that, my mother left the room.

That day, I saw the beauty in my mother, that perhaps my father used to see.

I saw love in my mothers eyes. And she was right, We obviously don't always follow the rules.

Because…

Malfoys Rule 1.…We do not love.

* * *

"Sir? Mr. Malfoy, sir…Are you alright?", The healers voice wrung clear in the air, like that of a bell in the chill winter air.

Draco did a double take, still not believing.

"Oh…yes, Sir…Umm..Could you reread that last part,", He said, Laughing nervously as he did. " I don't believe I heard it right."

The healer heaved great sigh, "Due to the curse that rebounded onto you in the final battle, Owing to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, You are under the influence of a lethal Travidorus curse."

"And…What exactly does this curse do?" Draco asked in a low tone, already exactly what it _did_.

"It decays you, from the inside. But not entirely in a nasty way. It shuts your organs down, one by one.", The healer spoke, voice shaking slightly.

There was a pause in the room. The tension was sharp in the air.

"How long do I have?" A voice said. One that sounded much like a small boy, with platinum blonde hair and sharp features. Not like a strong grown man at all.

The healer cleared his throat, almost awkwardly.

"6 months."

Draco drew a breath, deep. He exhaled and clenched his eyes.

Reciting the words in his brain.

_Malfoys do not cry._

_Malfoys do not cry._

_Malfoys do not cry._

But sometimes, Rules are meant to break.

* * *

My new story. :) its gonna be sad, I'm warning you.

Warnings: SLASH M/M Character Death, Dirty language, and Smex:P

Disclaimer: Oh i do not own hp or coldplays lyrics, I am not that awesome.


	2. The Ocean

"_Only melody remains,_

_So I sing my song to you,_

_As I watched you slip away,_

_In the oceans arms."-_

_Ocean by Cold._

You know those moments when you feel broken beyond repair? Those moments where your insides feel frozen, but the room isn't even cold?

This is one of those moments.

Draco feels tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. But the weirdest thing is…he doesn't feel sad. He feels broken. So many years he's spent, Clouding his mind up with abysmal thoughts of Pure-Blood rights and Muggle Born death, He didn't even realize how cold he had become.

And with that, Draco felt a rush he had never felt before. A warm, yet frightening feeling coursed through his body and he dimly thought, 'This must be what it's like to care..' For he had spent so many nights at Hogwarts, So many nights at home, wishing for death and nearly begging for it to come for him. To take him away from his fate, his pain.

Of course, nothing could have stopped him from attempting his 'mission'. He wanted glory. He wanted fame. But above all, he wanted to wipe Potter's nose in the dirt, he wanted to take away something Potter really cared about.

But in the end, He could not kill Dumbledore.

In the end, He had been a coward…Who just wanted to live without killing, without being like his father.

He hated, above all, the look he saw in his fathers eyes when he realized Draco had failed.

It hurt. Really, it did. But when you have a madman like Voldemort trying to kill you, You tend to not really care whose disappointed in you.

So Potter's reign over Voldemort had come as a great gift to Draco, if you will. No more running, No more hiding…No more pretending to accept his father's stupid beliefs.

And so, Draco had spent the last five years, holed up in the Manor….With nightmares of snakes and people being tortured.

And now, he was dying.

"You'll need a healer around you, twenty four seven…This curse may not show that it's hurting you, but you need to take great care and you need to have some there to check on you regularly."

The doctors rambling broke Draco out of his thoughts.

"There's," Draco began, "There's no way to…beat this curse?" He asked.

The Doctor frowned. Draco already knew the answer, but the man seemed apt to humor him anyways.

"I'm afraid not, Sir." The doctor said, "It's best if you get your affairs in check within the next month…So you can have the rest of the time to…" the man trailed off.

_To die._

Draco knew what the man meant. To die comfortably.

As Draco left that day, He thought of his life…He thought of all the things he had done, and all the things he hadn't done.

He thought of how he used to be so rude and controlling…He thought of how he hadn't talked to his friends since the war, Of how he had never gotten to go see the ocean, like he had always wanted to as a child.

He had always had a fascination with it as a child.

He'd look at the pretty pictures, the waves reminding him of his mothers cold eyes. For hours he'd sit in his room at the Manor, pouring over books about oceans. He'd stare at them in hopes that he might vanish from his cold, dead home. He'd hope to be in the run and to be surrounded by children who smiled, Who had families who wanted to be around them, instead of buying them expensive things to shut them up.

More than anything in the world, Draco wanted to see those cold, blue waves.

And at that moment, The only thing Draco could think of was how he ought to see the ocean…Just once before he died.

----------------

not very long, i know....but ive been busy...and i had work last night lol

so anyways...Disclaimer; i dont own hp or colds lyrics...yada yada yada

and REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!I HUG YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


	3. Vampire Lair

"_**And I'm never sure,**_

_**What I'm living for, But I'm always asking why.**_

_**Someone comes along,**_

_**Always proves me wrong,**_

_**Think I'm gonna be fine."**_

_**Oh! By Eric Hutchinson**_

You know those days where you wake up and everything that could possibly go wrong, goes wrong?

Yeah, this is one of those days.

Draco had _meant_ to have woken up at 5 A.M. as he does every _single_ day. But apparently his stupid muggle contraption of an alarm clock didn't want to work.

Yes, Draco used a _muggle_ contraption. Why? His mother had suggested it. And well, since the death of his father, Draco's mother had been kind of…lonely and a bit mad, Though it rather shamed him to think so. So he obeyed her when she asked for small things, like if he would use an alarm clock, rather than bother the poor house elves…They needed their sleep, she said. Well, Draco could just see Libby going crazy in the mornings, itchy to wake her master up…That elf was a workaholic if he'd ever seen one.

Anyways, Draco's alarm did not go off.

Not until 9 A.M. did he finally open his eyes and see far too much sunlight filtering through his window. He immediately realized something was wrong. He also realized he hadn't been woken up by the usual shrieking of his alarm clock.

His mind seemed to do several things at once, as did his body. The process went like this:

1) He was supposed to have met his healer at 6 o'clock.

2) He was supposed to fire-call his mother_ before _6 o'clock.

3) Do not jump out of the bed when you are quite literally wrapped in blankets and sheets.

Draco stumbled on his feet, the blankets tightening around his ankles and feel face forward onto the floor. Just at that very moment he heard a disturbance in the room next to him. He quickly untangled himself from the great length of the silken bed clothes, and rushed into the sitting area, wand at the ready in case he needed to fight. He'd been like this since the war, always on his guard.

However, the sight that greeted him was quite a….surprise.

"Now, now Malfoy, I don't think you should be pointing your wand at a St. Mungos official," _Potter_ said, his eyes alight with humor, "Lets just calm down…and sit down and talk?" He gestured to the sitting rooms seats, covered in red velvet and made of fine oak. Potter gave them the oddest look.

Draco breathed an irritated sigh.

"Oh please, Stop acting like I have to plaster green and silver throughout my house, will you?", Draco said, glaring at Potter, the boy he used to loath with a passion.

And he still did, sort of.

But it was easy to admit that Potter was not a boy anymore….He'd grown a bit taller, though he was still shorter than Draco (the thought made him want to smirk.) His body looked stockier, more muscled than it had in school, and one look at the mans arms told Draco that he obviously still visited the Quidditch field from time to time. But his eyes had changed the most. Perhaps Draco had never really looked at them correctly, or maybe Potter was just infinitely happier since his defeat of Voldemort (and it was probably both) but Draco could see something in them...Fulfillment…Happiness…Love.

It unnerved Draco to see this in Potter's eyes, so he had to turn away.

Potter chuckled, a dark, rich sound , coming from deep in his chest.

"I've got to be honest,", The raven haired man began, "I thought I'd be walking into a cold, vampire lair…but it's actually very…Warm..Welcoming." He smiled and Draco couldn't help but realize, _God his teeth are white._

Draco shook the thoughts from his head, realizing he probably looked like an idiot, ogling Potter's teeth.

Potter cleared his throat a bit. Oh so, He _had_ looked like an idiot.

"So…er…Shall we…talk about this?" Potter asked politely as he withdrew a large binder from within his robes.

Draco sat down in a high backed chair across the room….

"Yes, we shall." He said.

Potter sat across from him and smiled a shy smile. His heart beat quickened in an awkward way.

_Boy, this was going to be a long day._

* * *

This chaps a bit...happy, funny. It won't last long though, be warned.

And isn't Draco adorable? Makes you wanna ruffle his hair like a five year old.

DISCLAIMER;do not own jks stories or eric hutchinsons lyrics...la de da


	4. the Dramatics of Draco Malfoy

"So…You understand the circumstances of this curse, and what it will do to you-"

Draco cut across Harry rather rudely, "Yes, I know, Potter."

He glared at the boy across from him, feeling irrationally angry.

"Lets cut to the point, okay?" Draco said quietly. "I'm dying."

The two words rang through the silence of them, absurdly bouncing off the walls and sounding as if they had been yelled rather than whispered.

Draco looked into the emerald green eyes across from him, that shone like stones and reflected the light in the dimly lit room. He saw something in them, something akin to pity, sympathy.

"Dra-Draco…I'm so sorry." Harry mumbled, his face falling.

Draco rose from his seat, a scowl on his face, his limbs shaking with suppressed rage.

"How _dare_ you even look at my like that! How dare you come into _my_ home and-and-_apologize_ to me!" He shouted. Harry stared at him unflinchingly, his brow furrowed.

"How dare you even try to make this about you Potter!" He shouted, dimly feeling tears grace his cheeks.

His lips began to quiver and he dropped to the floor, slid down the wall, resting with his knees in front of him.

And for the first time since he was born, even more than in his sixth year, Draco cried. And he _really_ cried, heart wrenching sobs that shook the entire room….and yet no one came to him, no one breathed a word.

Draco was dimly aware that he was shaking and great, salty tears were pouring down his face. He even forgot that his life-long (or meant to be life-long) nemesis was in the same room as him.

"You know," Harry began in a sad, weak little voice. "I've faced death a lot…I even thought I would die once, when I faced Voldemort…It's not as scary…If you have someone there with you.."

Draco felt a body sit down in front of him, felt arms wrap around his shaking, pale form.

"You won't be alone, Draco." Harry whispered into his ear, "I'll make sure of it."

* * *

That day had been a week ago, When Draco and Harry had established a…sort of friendship.

Sure, Draco still annoyed Harry to death and Harry still brought out the most sniveling, evil ferret-ness in Draco, but they were definitely more kind to each other.

They had sat down and discussed the phases of Draco's ailment.

First month: Insomnia, Mild memory loss.

Second month: Clumsiness, Internal bleeding possible, if bruises appear.

Third month: Mild deterioration of muscles, Forgetfulness, Lose of motor skills.

Fourth month: Hearing impairments, some lose of movement may occur.

Fifth month: Lose of sight.

Sixth month: Organs began to fail, and on the 31st, the body finally shuts down.

Draco had noticed that the symptoms of the first month were already occurring. He hadn't slept very well in the past few days and just yesterday he had decided to make cookies, but had burnt them after forgetting to check on them. But Draco never forgot to do anything. _Ever._

All these thoughts may have disturbed him, but nothing bothered him more than the eve of Harry Potter's move into his house.

It wasn't like it bothered him, per say, He just felt they might not get on so well.

He also figured that this curse might make him look, well….Less than attractive.

And Harry was attractive. Oh, yes…Draco could admit it.

But he felt like it would be…embarrassing, painful even for anyone to see him in such a state of vulnerability. No it just wouldn't do.

* * *

Draco had told himself that again and again. _It just won't do. Potter must not move in._

But alas, here he was, helping Harry direct his various suitcases up the stairs with his wand.

The other boy had been acting odd as of late. Draco had caught him staring at him quite a bit today….And despite his very brave Gryffindor demeanor, He would snap his gaze away or pretend to be staring at a rather uninteresting painting behind Draco.

At this, Draco would roll his eyes and stomp away.

He didn't have time to play 'Chase the Gryffindor.'

* * *

No lyric for this chap....I'm lazy...:)

I'm drinking lemonade amp energy drink O.O

I listened to coldplay while writing this, the songs make me sad but optimistic


	5. A SemiNaked Harry Potter

Do you ever get that heart stopping terrified feeling?

The one where you're body goes numb, you're mind feels spent….As if you're not thinking at all, but really you thinking rapidly…so rapidly, In fact, you can't seem to form coherent words or sentences.

So only a few words come out at once.

Like, say: "Uh…err…I…You…Wonderful abs."

_You see, this particular sentence might occur if you just so happen to walk into a particular bathroom in Draco Malfoy's house and it might be caused by the fact that you're having memory lose_ and you just happened to forget (yes, _forget!_) that one very nude, very wet Harry Potter is using your stainless and posh bathroom to take a nice, steamy shower.

Or, it might just occur if your name _is_ Draco Malfoy…but really, that would just defeat the writer's purpose, wouldn't it?

And that's how the boy's got into _this_ predicament.

And really, he _did_ have a towel on.

* * *

Draco had made his way out of his bedroom that morning…Completely intent on taking a shower, drinking some coffee, and reading the Daily Prophet, just to have a laugh.

He had his whole day planned out, and not even his sudden memory lose could hamper his day. No, today Draco Malfoy was in a right jolly mood!

But, as we know, those moods rarely last.

Draco, forgetting that Harry had popped his head into his room, five minutes to 8, and told him he'd be taking a quick shower, made his way merrily to his extravagant bathroom.

So lost was he in dreaming of his warm bathtub, with his sponges and body soaps (do _not_ laugh) He didn't even notice that the room was awfully steamy, as he opened the door.

And the sight that greeted him quickly popped his little bubble of happiness.

Harry James Potter.

Naked.

Well, To be fair, he wasn't _fully _naked, but the towel he wore was small…much too _small_.

Still, that would never stop our dear Draco from making a scene.

"BLOODY HELL!!! Lock the damn door!", Draco's voice screeched (Erm…Yelled…Handsomely) as Harry jumped into the air, clutching his towel.

"Don't barge in! It's not my fault you don't know how to knock!" He bellowed back, his eyebrows knitting together.

"Why are you naked???" Draco asked, his eyes frantic and wide.

Harry developed a look between pity and sarcasm (Yes, one can look sarcastic.)

"Um…Because," He said, with the air of one speaking to a small child. "I was taking a _shower."_

"And besides, I'm not even naked." He sighed and made a move towards his clothing.

"Close enough!" Draco shrieked in…..err….a manly voice.

Harry pulled a shirt over his head, his muscles moving and Draco's eyes strayed down his front…Watching the water drip down into the soft cotton of the towel.

When he looked up Harry was staring at him with an eyebrow raised.

"Looking for something?" He asked, breaking the other boy out of his clustered haze.

"Uh…err…I…You…Wonderful abs." Draco's face quickly became pink with embarrassment as he rushed out of the bathroom, Leaving a chuckling Harry behind.

He rested his back against his bedroom door and took a deep breath. What in the world had he been doing? Sneaking peeks at Harry Potter?? Why, of all people, did it have to be Harry _bloody _Potter.

Maybe it was the curse…yes….the curse was addling his brain a bit, that was all.

There was no way, no way in _hell_, He had just nearly seen Harry Potter naked.

And now he'd have to face him! Draco's stomach turned at the very thought.

No. No, He was strong. Strong enough to face Voldemort. So why in the world would a naked Harry Potter scare?

Pssh, As if.

* * *

Draco was fixing his breakfast as Harry walked in. Thankfully, He was fully dressed. But the blonde couldn't help but blush at the memory of Harry in the soft cotton towel, his tan muscles stretching and begging to be touched.- WAIT. No. Wrong line of thought.

Draco had gotten one of his favorite house elves, Lindy, to make him breakfast. He silently ate his eggs as he watched, no _felt_, Harry stare at him. It was quite unnerving.

"What?" Draco blurted out finally. He just couldn't stand it when people stared at him. It made him uncomfortable.

Harry cleared his throat and pulled out chair to sit beside Draco. Their proximity made Draco's arm burn.

"So, Have you felt any symptoms yet?" Harry asked as he put a few pancakes on his plate.

_Of course_, The curse is what he wanted to talk about. For a second there Draco had been hoping he would-Never mind. That's not important.

"Draco? Any at all?" Harry asked when he didn't get an answer. The blonde man seemed to jump out of his daze.

He'd like to ignore the fact that a shiver went down his spine when Harry said 'Draco' so casually.

"Oh…yes…I've had trouble remembering things and such."

"Well, that's normal for this typical curse, Now what I'm concerned about…" And Harry droned on about the various symptoms of the curse, But what fascinated Draco more was the way the other man talked. The way he moved his hands, as if it helped him explain better. The way his lips moved fast. Merlin, How he'd love to have those lips on him. But he couldn't be thinking these things…because…because…

"You love Ginny Weasley." Draco blurted it aloud, stopping Harry mid-sentence.

"That's how--What??" Harry asked, his face incredulous.

"Um…Nothing. Just…You're with Ginny Weasley."

Harry looked at him as if he had grown a second head. But the look passed and he must have assumed it was the curse talking, so he decided to humor the other man.

"Um…Well, no. We're not together anymore."

Oh…really now? Why wouldn't Potter be with the Weaselette anymore?

"Oi! Don't call her…weasel…whatever you were calling her." Harry said, his eyebrows furrowing.

_Damn, I said that out loud. Draco thought._

"And we're not together because…." Harry continued. "We wanted..,.different things."

Hmmm...what could _different things_ be?

* * *

This has not been edited,because I am lazy.

I've been busy...buuuut I decided to put these 's a rather funny chapter...kind of. I hope you guys like it....and oh! It's my birthday! I'm 17!


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